


50 Shades of Wood

by dynamicslashduo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynamicslashduo/pseuds/dynamicslashduo





	

50 Shades of Wood

Part 1: Birch

To new beginnings, creativity, fresh starts and rebirth.

* * *

He heard movement in the far left corner, where he knew the door was. He heard it shut and felt a breeze of cool air on his bare thighs. His eyes covered, his arms and legs bound, he tried not to show excitement and concentrated on his breaths; in, out.

“Well look who is happy to see me.”

A finger traced a line from his lips slowly down, to his jaw, his throat, his chest, his abdomen and ending too soon. He could feel himself getting harder and his body moving unconsciously upwards, away from the bed he was lying on.

“No need to get impatient; we have all night.”

“But I want you now Charlie,” he whimpered. Charlie always made him throw his pride aside so easily.

“I know Oliver. And that’s why we have all night.”

* * *

“Well they aren’t exactly the greatest looking bunch, but Professor McGonagall tells me a lot of them have potential.”

“You better be right - he’s going to be so disappointed if we can’t get at least one good player on the team this year.”

Oliver could hear two of the older students’ conversation as he stood in line. He was patiently waiting for the Gryffindor quidditch captain to arrive, along with a dozen other students. Tryouts were today and everyone stood nervously, hoping to keep their cool long enough to show off what they were capable of.

On the empty quidditch field, so early in the morning, Oliver wasn’t that nervous. He was actually quite calm and was really looking forward to playing. He’d been obsessed with quidditch since he could say the word. The competition, the skill required, the adrenaline rush; what wasn’t to love? And he wasn’t just in love with the sport: he was actually a great player.

At least that’s what his friends always said.

“About time.” One of the players looked up, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun as he said this. Everyone looked up and saw a figure on a broomstick, rapidly descending towards them. Charlie Weasley hopped off his broom easily, his dark red hair damp from a recent shower. He was dressed casually, in a pair of old jeans and a grey t-shirt that showed off his broad chest and strong arms. He smiled as he approached, his eyes crinkling.

He’s so handsome, Oliver though. Wait, what? He immediately blushed, and suddenly got nervous. Where did that idea come from?

“Hello everyone. My name is Charlie and I am the Gryffindor quidditch captain. We are going to go through a few drills today and make our decision by the end of the week. So grab your brooms and get ready.” Charlie spoke the words with confidence and authority, without sounding forceful. It was magical and Oliver was mesmerized. 

He quickly snapped out of it as another member of the team explained the drill sequences to them. They quickly got into formation and began. The Gryffindor team observed from below.

“Did you really have to be late again today? You’re not really making a good impression on the new recruits, Captain.”

A tall blonde member of the team whispered this to Charlie, who didn’t bother to turn around. He didn’t need to see his friend’s face to know the glower that was on it. 

“I was occupied - you know how it gets when you enter your 6th year.”

“I do - is that why you have scratch marks on your shoulders?”

Charlie immediately touched the back of his neck and pulled his t-shirt higher. “Dammit, you can see those? I thought the t-shirt hid them well enough.”

“They start at the base of your neck, which isn’t covered dummy.”

Charlie laughed quite loudly. “Tristan, you know how 4th years get - absolutely ravenous for a prefect to give them some attention and guide them on the right path.”

They moved to stand closer together and slightly away from the rest of the team to continue their conversation. Though Charlie was dressed formally, Tristan was the image of a vice-captain. He wore dark dress pants and a white button down shirt, a Gryffindor scarf resting casually around his neck. The gold colour of the scarf was comparable to that of his hair, which was perfectly styled. Though he was a head taller than Charlie, he didn’t fill out his clothes quite like Charlie did, who was all muscle. 

Tristan snorted. “A fourth year Charlie, really? Please tell me they’re a Gryffindor and therefore not in our room anymore.”

Charlie looked at Tristan straight in the face and slowly grinned. 

“Dammit Weasley! I am not sneaking another one out for you. It’s the beginning of the year and I’ve decided to go on strike.”

“Keep your voice down! We are supposed to be watching the new recruits and deciding who we should pick.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “Oh please. You knew who you wanted on the team in the first minute of the drill.”

He looked to Oliver Wood, who was clearly excelling. The new recruits were at their third drill now, and he had come out on top on all of them so far.

Charlie noticed his build. He was tall for his age and was lithe, but had muscles on him. He also happened to be very fast on a broom. And exactly Charlie’s type.

“Definitely a Keeper.”

“Is that supposed to be a play on words?” Tristan asked, giving Charlie another look.

Charlie grinned and shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say? You caught me.”

Tristan and Charlie walked towards the rest of the team. Charlie practically had a bounce to his step; he looked like he was about to go leaping into the sunset. Tristan had a lot more poise than his friend, though Charlie’s lack of control when it came to his love of quidditch often amused him. 

“I’m still not sneaking that conquest of yours out of our dorm. You can do it yourself.”

Charlie sighed, “I guess your bed will just have to stay occupied until you get back to it then.”

Tristan moaned and grabbed a broom.


End file.
